The Two Bays
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: [Afterstory, alternate ending] The girl from the other world was supposed to disappear and Tomoya was supposed to live a happy life with his family. Except somehow the girl from the other world has somehow entered their own and the tragic past that Tomoya thought he'd left behind could once again become reality...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _Written for the random! AU competition on the AMF, with doppleganger! AU. I figured the two Ushio's qualified, since I'd signed up for Clannad. :D_

* * *

There was no snow in this world. The sun instead shone, bright and true, in the sky. Its light bounced off steel posts and well varnished benches and the metal finishes of passing cars. The world _sparkled_ – sparkled in a way her world never had.

Its people sparkled as well; she could barely look at them for their brightness. It was like the little balls of light that rose up from the ground, flickering weakly like distant stars in the night sky even as she reached for them.

Sometimes, she could even catch them with the snowflakes that constantly fell. She could grip them in her hands and remember springs from long ago – springs that had shrunk, smaller and smaller, as the scene of winter grew, until those fresh yellow daffodils and sweetly fragmented winds were buried in the perpetual blanket of snow.

She thought that spring had been a brief dream she'd lost, the sun had been a part of the other world, the world they could never reach. It had been those little rising orbs that gave her world light; those little orbs that vanished into the grey sky. People, others apart from her, were apart of the past and that other world as well; she'd been alone for too long in her world – except for the robot friend she'd made.

He was inanimate in her hands now; once he had walked with her through the snow, brought her things. Now she carried him, lost. Through the other world they had somehow passed into.

_Did we make it? To that other world?_

**The Two Bays  
Chapter 1**

Ushio blinked lazily at the sun smirking through the trees. As usual, it managed to wake her up in the middle of a barely remembered dream – the same dream she always had, she thought, except she could never recall any details. Just something white and brown and what looked like her favourite toy – the toy that was now nestled in the crook of her arm: the first toy she remembered her father giving her.

She didn't know why he'd chosen to give her such a boyish toy, or how he'd known she'd love it. But he had – and her mother had laughed for years afterward, pointing out hundreds of similar robots in the station store. But Ushio didn't care that it was a cheap toy, or a boy one – she had plenty other cheap plastic toys but not one of them was as valuable as this one.

The only one that matched it was the Dango doll her mother had given her – one from her own three-part collection. Both of them shared her bed at night; the Dango cushioned under her chin and the robot nestled at her side. In the woods though, it was only her dear little robot that accompanied her. Dango was fabric; it would get wet in the spring dew. The robot was alright though; it was plastic, and she could easily dry it. Or the sun would, just like it woke her from her pleasant naps.

Though she had to confess the sun had good timing – or her parents did. She could hear them calling her from their veranda. Her father's low gruff voice. Her mother's light sweet one. Calling her name. She yelled back, sending a few crows squawking amidst the laughter of the native birds. They were used to her after all; she'd lived there most of her life. They knew her.

She laughed too as she sat up, waving as the native birds chirped at each other and to her, their brown tail feathers glistening in the rays of the afternoon sun as they danced on their self-proclaimed branches. She set the robot up as well, moving its plastic arms to wave at the birds too. They ruffled their wings at the pair, then took flight, scaring the crows into squawking once again.

It was amusing, a treat Ushio didn't often get to see, and she was still giggling as she took her robot in both arms and ran to her parents.

They were waiting for her, Nagisa on the veranda still, softly humming Dango daikozuku to the wind. Tomoya was by the door though, wrapped in his overalls and holding his arms out to her.

Ushio squealed and ran into his arms.

'You're getting too old to be carried around,' Tomoya laughed, letting her transfer her robot to one hand and wrap her other hand around his head. 'What were you dreaming about when your old man was at work?'

'Nothing.' Ushio grinned into her father's hair. 'Or I can't remember anyway. I think Robot was there though.' She gripped her robot tighter. 'And something white. My blanket?'

'Or the snow.' Nagisa, smiling, appeared on the staircase. 'Sometimes, I almost feel sorry it's spring.'

'Because you're getting older all the time?' Tomoya teased, carrying Ushio over before setting her down at the foot of the stairs. Nagisa walked down as well, and for a moment the three of them collected at the base like the happy family they were. 'Unfortunately, your Daddy has to go back to work after lunch, so we'd better get eating.'

Ushio giggled again at the pout her father struck. He always came home for lunch, and he was always pouting at the thought of going back to work, but Ushio and Nagisa both knew how much Tomoya loved his job. And how grateful he was for it as well: for all it had done for him. 'Lunch,' she squealed instead, clasping her hands. 'What did you make, Mama?'

Nagisa had made salmon and a light garden salad, and the family of three enjoyed their lunch before Tomoya left with a goodbye and a kiss to each girl's forehead. Ushio reached on her tiptoes to put her plate into the sink and wash her hands, her robot staring at her from her chair.

'So what are your afternoon plans?' Nagisa asked, packing the leftover salmon and salad away. 'Visiting your friend Fuuko again?'

'Nuh-uh.' Ushio grabbed her robot off the chair. 'Fuuko has to have a checkup today. She said she can't play.'

'That's too bad.' Nagisa put the tupperware containing the leftovers into the fridge. 'Though isn't it great that Fuuko's feeling better now?'

'Yep.' Ushio grinned, showing all of her teeth. 'She said we'll be able to play every day soon.'

'I'm afraid not, sweetie.' Though Nagisa was smiling too as she closed the fridge. 'Fuuko will have to go to school.'

Ushio mirrored her father's famous pout. 'When will I get to go there?'

'Hmm…let's see…' Nagisa counted thoughtfully. 'At least another nine years. Fuuko will have graduated by then.'

'Aww…' Ushio pouted again. 'I guess it'll be just me and Robot.' She looked up at her mother. 'Do you think I could take Dango to school?'

'School will just be like kindergarden,' Nagisa explained, squatting down. 'You'll eat outside or have sports and Dango might get wet or dirty.'

'But Robot will be fine?'

Nagisa smiled at the tender concern in her daughter's eyes. 'Robot will be fine,' she confirmed. 'But if he's not planning on doing anything, he's getting a shower.'

'No.' Ushio hugged her robot close to her. 'Robot and I are playing more in the wood first.'

'Okay, okay.' Nagisa chuckled, petting her daughter's hair before setting the hat atop her head. 'There you go. Remember not to go too far from the house.'

'I won't,' Ushio replied, slipping into her shoes and running off again. 'Bye Mama!'

Nagisa stood at the door and waved her off, and Ushio kept glancing behind her until she'd shrunk. Then the birds came again, quarrelling amongst themselves for the remains of their lunch, and Ushio remembered she forgot to ask for some bread to bring them.

'We didn't bring anything,' she called, accounting for both herself and the robot.

The birds barely glanced at her, busy as they were with themselves. Ushio giggled a bit – they reminded her of her parents playfully fighting for the last spaghetti – and moved on.

She came back to the tree: her favourite tree, that seemed to rise taller than all the other trees in the wood. It could be seen from the veranda of their quaint double-storey home, or from the upper levels of the hospital as well. Maybe Fuuko could see it too, she thought. Maybe Fuuko was thinking of Ushio underneath the tree.

Except there was another girl under the tree: not Ushio, nor her parents who came in the weekends with her, or Fuuko who came when she was free. Her hair was the same colour as Ushio's though, and her dress looked like Nagisa's summer dress: sleeveless, white and plain. She was sleeping like Ushio liked to as well, with something curled up at her side that Ushio couldn't see, bathed in the shadows as it was.

But what Ushio noticed most of all was how the sun trickling in through the trees seemed to just wash off the other girl. Not like the trees and the leaves or even her robot that took a little light and gave their own shine. It was like the girl didn't absorb any light at all.


	2. Chapter 2

She woke up, blinking at the rays of light that seemed stronger and yet more gentle than the light she remembered. In fact, it looked like the sun: something she'd only ever seen in dreams, dreams born from a world that had existed beyond her reach, from memories of her infancy where a warm sun _had_ existed, along with fields and a wood much like the one she seemed to be in right now.

She blinked and sat up, staring at the spots of moisture grass and twigs left on her silk white dress. A crow cawed somewhere else: another sound she had not heard for so long outside her dreams – but never had her dreams been as vivid as this. Her eyes drank in the sight: tall slender trees with branches and leaves spraying wildly into space. Little chirping birds hopping from branch to branch, and – did she spy a little nest amongst those branches as well? She did! It took her breath away.

Somehow, she had come to that other world. The world that her father had come from, had gone toward.

**The Two Bays  
Chapter 2**

Ushio blinked at the strange girl. While debating whether or not to approach her, she'd awoken herself, and now Ushio watched as she looked around herself in a hungry awe. The sun still passed through her as though she were from another world, but her expression glowed so fiercely that illusion was quickly dispelled. Ushio's childish mind could only cling to such a thought for a moment before it would vanish, and within seconds Ushio had decided the girl wasn't other-worldly, but simply lost.

And she looked harmless too. Almost like Fuuko had been, the first time they'd met. That made Ushio feel more confident. She was good friends with Fuuko after all. She went closer, one hand dragging little robot behind her.

'Hi,' she chirped, still keeping a safe distance as her parents had taught her, but close enough to appear friendly. The hat ribbon flittered towards her eyes in a breath of wind but she ignored it. 'What's your name?'

The girl stared at her but didn't answer. Ushio beck paddled a little. 'Do you…know your name?' A pause. 'I'm not trying to be rude or anything,' she waved her hands, along with Robot, 'but…ahh…you look lost,' she finished lamely.

The girl nodded. 'I am lost,' she said, her voice soft and almost drowning in the gentle spring wind. 'I think.'

'Oh.' Ushio cocked her head. 'Umm…where did you come from?'

The girl frowned a little in thought. 'Somewhere with lots of snow,' she said finally. 'And no sun.' She ran her fingers down her arms as though feeling for goosebumps.

The afternoon was quite warm, and the girl was wearing a thin dress. If she'd been wearing that in the snow, she must be hot now, Ushio thought. She was squinting a little with the sun; maybe it was too bright for her. Ushio fingered her hat, then took it off and skipped to the other. 'Here,' she said, offering it.

The girl stared, then reached out and accepted the hat. It was a little small on her, being a perfect fit for the younger Ushio, but it shaded her eyes from the sun and that was the important thing. It suited the girl's plain white dress as well. More than suited actually; she looked just as pretty as Ushio's mother did, dressed in her summer clothes. And she clasped her hands, along with Robot, and said so.

'Thank you.' The girl blushed transparently. It seemed she didn't often get such comments. Maybe, Ushio thought, she didn't have people to give them to her.

That was a sad thought. 'Are you going anywhere?' she asked.

The girl shook her head. 'I don't think…I have anywhere to go.'

'Then play with me!' Ushio dropped Robot carefully in the shade of the tree, and grabbed the girl's right hand with both of hers. 'Come on! It'll be fun.'

The girl smiled a little and followed. Followed as Ushio skipped as fast as her little legs could take her around trees and over stray branches and through the snaking light that passed through the trees. Ushio let go in one particular bout of shade, quickly explaining the rules of tag before running off and leaving the other girl standing there.

She tried to keep up, but Ushio was bouncing with energy and much more practised. The girl wasn't used to playing it seemed, or running. She was tired in what felt like moments, leaning against the tree with her face sweaty and flushed and her breath croaky and begging for a break. Ushio noticed and stopped dancing through the trees. 'Are you sick?' she asked, unable to understand any other reason why someone would not be able to play.

The girl didn't appear to know. 'I don't…' she began, a hand over her presumably hammering heart, before changing tracks. 'I haven't…'

'Maybe you just need some water,' Ushio decided. It was rather hot after all. 'Come with me! To my house!' The girl didn't seem like anyone dangerous; she was sure her parents – or mother really, since her father was at work – wouldn't mind.

She tried to walk slowly; she really did. Her mother was a little frail after all, so she couldn't rush ahead while holding her hand, but her father was very quick on his feet and when Ushio walked alone with him, they could walk very fast indeed. She tried to pretend this girl was like her mother, but that seemed too fast still for her and Ushio simply couldn't walk any slower. 'I'll go get Mum,' she decided, letting go of the other's hands. 'I'll be back in a sec.'

She sprinted off through the trees and the other girl watched her go and followed at her own slow pace, feeling the sun beating down more fiercely than the snow ever could. She watched Ushio vanish before her and the trees give way to a grassy backyard. She could see flowers, fresh flowers, dancing under a windowsill – flowers untouched by cold or frost, like the ones in that worn out picture book she'd found amidst scraps.

They even shimmered in the same way, sparking under the sun and framed perfectly before the soft brown of bricks. The grass shimmered as well, fully exposed now that the shade of the trees did not hide that spread, nor the snow. Though it sparked just like the snow did: a dizzying sparkle that dropped her to her knees before she realised she'd lost her balance and sunk. The grass was cool beneath the thin material of her skirt, but scratchy, digging into her legs.

She suddenly noticed Ushio had returned, holding the hand of a woman following. She looked familiar to the girl as well: another face she'd seen in her dreams. Though she didn't remember that face being filled with such concern. She didn't remember any face filled with concern, because for too long it had just been her and the garbage doll she'd made.

She realised her hands were empty. The garbage doll wasn't with her. She'd somehow managed to lose it, leave it behind.

Her eyes brimmed with tears and the woman made a noise of alarm in her throat. The next moment she was helping her – and the girl noted that the lady was far stronger than she looked, because she all but carried her inside, up the three stairs on the back porch and into a chair. The next moment she was guiding a cup to her lips, and the girl was drinking thirstily.

The water was lukewarm, warmer than anything she remembered tasting – because all too often the water she'd find would be frozen over by a winter that grew longer and longer each year, until it had become never-ending. That last winter she recalled, that had gone on until all the strength had been sapped from her bones, far beyond her stores of food and water and warmth…and even hope.

'Are you feeling better?' the woman asked her, soft and kind and with a worried smile. 'Can you tell me your name?'

'She doesn't know,' Ushio's slightly sharper voice piped up.

'Hush, Ushio. That's rude, dear.'

'I don't know,' the girl admitted, though she really did. It had occurred to her before, with the trees. But she couldn't say she was Ushio, another Ushio who had lived in a land where there had been only snow, with only her little robot with her father's soul.

Her father. Suddenly she could hear more than the quiet house, the warm voices of mother and child and the birds and wind singing outside. She could hear the sound of something heavy approaching. Something that sounded like an engine she had once found amidst junk, before it had spluttered out.

'Daddy's home!' the little Ushio squealed.

'Run along to get him then,' her mother smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

She watched Ushio run away from her a second time, her excited cry still in her ears, then again as the girl stumbled and slowed, then picked something up from the ground and rang back.

'It's your doll!' Ushio cried, handing the Garbage Doll to the other girl. 'Here you go.'

The thanks faded on her lips as the other raced off around the house again, calling 'Daddy' as she went.

Daddy…her father as well. Of course, she'd known it was that world, when she'd seen little Ushio…but to see her father in it felt like another thing entirely.

Somehow, it hadn't been so shocking to see her mother. Maybe it was because she'd never known her, in her own world. It had always just been the Garbage Doll and her – the Garbage Doll her father's soul lived within. The Garbage Doll was empty now, but she clutched it tight anyway, clutched it because it was the only family she'd truly known. She hadn't been able to hear her father's voice until those last moments, know it was her father within the Garbage Doll and not some different force compelling the Doll to move.

She realised she didn't even know what her father looked like.

'Is something wrong?' Nagisa's…it was her mother's voice – and yet not her mother. She'd died a long time ago; nothing of her remained in that snow-filled world. That was this world's Ushio's mother. 'Are you okay?'

She looked at the woman. They had the same hair, sort of. Hers was longer than Nagisa's – longer, and a little darker too. Darker eyes as well, by a few shades but the same colour. And pale skin – maybe, when Nagisa was as young as she was now, she looked about the same – the same as the reflection in ice she'd spend hours staring at with little yellow lights of happiness rising all round.

Then she heard two voices coming through the house. Both of them familiar. Ushio – this world's Ushio…and her father.

**The Two Bays  
Chapter 3**

Ushio raced down the driveway and hung on the gate, waving widely as the small grey car came in to view. 'Daddy!' she yelled, and her father stopped the car and waved back.

'Open the door for me, Ushio?' he called.

Ushio happily did so, undoing the latch and hooking the two gates to their respective posts so the car could come inside. Tomoya started the car up again and, making sure Ushio was safely out of the way, began to slowly reverse.

They didn't have a garage per say; instead, Tomoya and Nagisa had stored a variety of things there and made it more of a shed. The car instead was exposed to the elements – and so far had come out none the worse for it. It was newly brought though, and so the sun hadn't enough time to beat down on the paint and metal and rust it. Tomoya was planning on building a port on his next weekend off though – and Yohino had even volunteered to lend a hand. So had Ushio…but Ushio's hand was likely going to be painting the Dango family on the walls. Not that either of them minded.

He parked the car in the front yard and Ushio raced up the moment he'd turned the engine off. 'I've got a new friend,' she said eagerly as Tomoya clamoured out.

'Oh?' Tomoya asked, picking up what things he needed to take inside for the night. The tools were fine; they could stay in the car. His wallet, his keys – 'Ooh, did you bring something for me?' – the plastic bag he'd picked up on the way home.

'Not for you,' Tomoya said to the eager girl, amused. 'This is for Mummy.'

'Ooh.' Ushio didn't look disappointed in the least. 'For your anniversary?'

'Yep.' He handed the bag to her and closed the door, locking it behind him. She peeked inside, then squealed quietly. 'Ooh, it's got a cute little moustache.'

'Sure does,' Tomoya agreed, watching Ushio carefully tie the plastic bag again so the Dango inside was hidden from sight. 'Do you want to help me wrap it?'

'Yeah!' Ushio skipped to the steps and waited for her father. 'How many more Dango are there?'

'No idea,' Tomoya replied, shaking his head with a smile and following her in to the house. 'I was sure I'd brought them all a few years back, but a new one pops up every year.' Sometimes, he thought the toyshop owner made released a few new sorts of Dango every year just so he could buy them for his wife. Not many people were still in to the Big Dango Family during his high school years, let alone now. 'So, tell me about this new friend of yours?'

'She looks a bit like Mummy,' Ushio said immediately. 'Sort of like a big sister for me.'

Tomoya paused for a minute in the hallway, then shook his head. It can't be… That was a dream world now, he told himself. He hadn't seen the other world since Nagisa survived Ushio's birth.

'She doesn't know her name either,' the girl continued. 'And she looked dizzy and thirsty so I brought her to Mummy.'

Tomoya dropped his things on the table and Ushio grabbed his vacant hand. 'Come on,' she trilled. 'They're on the back porch.'

Tomoya followed. Ushio had many friends, unlike her parents. Nagisa had been too quiet and sickly; Tomoya too angry. But Ushio was happy and healthy; she attracted everyone's hearts. Her bringing a new friend home wasn't strange. Her saying the girl looked like Nagisa however was. But there was no way it could be the Ushio from the other world: the world of snow and yellow lights and despair…

Then Ushio threw open the screen door and he saw that it was her after all. Hair straight and falling down her shoulder blades and the same colour as Nagisa's but a shade or two darker – the same shade as Ushio's shorter cropped hair.

He felt suddenly colder, as though he had been thrown in to that dream again. The girl from another world. The everlasting winter. All that snow. The nightmares that seemed to go on forever in that other reality, that had stopped when their fates had changed – before Nagisa could die in the winter's night she gave birth to Ushio, before Ushio could die five years later.

He stared at the girl, who looked up at him with dark brown eyes. He realised he never had seen how that dream of his had ended. What had happened to her, after his spirit had left the vassal of the Garbage Doll behind. She was holding that doll close to her: the first present he'd brought his daughter in that first world, the world where Nagisa had died.

Ushio squeezed his hands and he brought his attention back to the present world. The dream world wasn't coming back; it was a dream that had been laid to eternal sleep years ago when they conquered that nightmare. The girl sitting on the porch by his wife looked the same, but she could be a different person.

Tomoya shook his head. 'Getting myself worked up,' he muttered, causing his daughter to blink at him and his wife to look towards him and cock her head in confusion. 'Nothing,' he said a little louder, before stepping closer to the girl: Ushio's new friend. 'Ushio said you can't remember your name?'

'I – ' the girl began, pulling the Garbage Doll nervously closer. 'I don't remember.'

Tomoya frowned. To him, it sounded like she was lying. Nagisa didn't seem to notice though; her face had a pitying expression on it. 'Poor dear,' she said gently, placing her hand atop the one that held the Garbage Doll. 'Your hands are so cold as well, and you're still pale. Maybe you should lie down for a little while.'

'I'm fine,' the girl protested, and this time her voice was stronger, surer, but still a little hoarse. 'I don't feel cold at all.'

If she came from the snow-filled world, Tomoya thought, then their spring was warm, if not unbearably hot, for her. 'Are you hot?' he asked abruptly.

The girl thought – or hesitated; he couldn't tell which, before answering. 'I don't think so.'

Nagisa checked her temperature anyway, one hand on her own forehead and the other on the girl's. 'A little clammy,' she said, 'but no fever. And Ushio said she'd been dizzy before; it might just be dehydration.'

'I'll get more water,' Ushio declared, racing back in to the house before either parent could call her back. Not that they wished to; Ushio often ran about but she knew what could trip her up in her home and was careful to avoid them. And she was right in wanting to get the other girl some water.

It also gave her parents some time to decide what to do. Nagisa looked up at her husband, who frowned a little, but ultimately shrugged in silent permission. Nagisa smiled, nodded and stood. 'I'll prepare a futon,' she said.

'Yell when you're ready,' Tomoya responded, and Nagisa affirmed before heading in to the house, leaving Tomoya and the girl he suspected came from the world of his dreams alone.


	4. Chapter 4

She was suddenly alone with her father. And he recognised her, and the Garbage Doll.

She wasn't quite sure why she knew that, but she did. She wasn't just assuming, out of nervousness or out of fear. She just knew when he looked at her, when a spark of recognition flared in his eyes.

It wasn't another Daddy, like the Ushio of this world wasn't hear. It was the same spirit that had lived within the Garbage Doll, that had given her companionship, warmth…and hope. That had collected junk with her so they could build the way to the other world together. Who had run with her, chasing those warm yellow lights that contained all the happiness in the world.

And now he had a flesh and blood body, like her.

**The Two Bays  
Chapter 4**

Tomoya hesitated a little when Nagisa left, but patience had never been a strong suit of his and so he came out and said it anyway. 'You're…that girl – the Ushio from the snow!'

The girl clutched her robot tighter. It really was the robot he'd brought the Ushio from that first world: her first present from a father that had abandoned her to her grandparents for the first five years of her life. The robot she'd lost in the fields up North, near the grandparents Tomoya had forgotten all about until that that. _His_ grandparents: the parents of a father he'd tried to cut out of his life, just like he'd tried to cut himself out of that Ushio's.

And when he'd tried to rectify that mistake, it had ended with his baby girl dying in the snow. And that's where his dream world had ended as well: that white-clad girl he'd only then identified at his daughter, years older, dying in the snow as his voice in the Garbage Doll finally reached her, too late.

And now she was sitting in front of him, drawing her robot to her chest and staring at him.

Tomoya couldn't even say it was impossible, because then it was also impossible for Nagisa to be alive, for Ushio – the Ushio of this world – to be alive. Because both of them had died in his memories. But he could accept that, because it was another dream – the dream that had always been far out of reach. This though – the Ushio from the other world being here…

He'd thought the dream had ended long ago. But... 'How..?'

'I don't know.' The girl looked nervously towards the door, then back at him. 'You…you're my Daddy, right? _My_ Daddy – '

Tomoya hesitated, then nodded. He remembered that thin stretch of time as the Garbage Doll. 'Unless that was just a dream…'

'It wasn't!' The girl stood, then wavered and, with a gentle guiding hand on her shoulder, sat back down. Still, her eyes were brimming with tears and certainty, the hesitation from before absent from her gaze, 'It wasn't a dream! Daddy was the Garbage Doll, but he vanished with the yellow lights – and then – and then – ' She gulped, then dropped the robot in her lap and burst into full-fledged tears.

Tomoya hesitated again, before embracing her loosely. She clung to his shirt and pulled him closer with more strength than he thought she had. 'You are!' the girl sobbed into his chest. 'You are my Daddy! I fell in the snow and went to that world where it only snowed…and I was so alone, until I made the Garbage Doll from scraps, and somehow you were inside it.'

He remembered that. In his dreams the nameless girl had told him all of that, in those days that had followed after his soul had slipped into the Garbage Doll and given it life. And he remembered what happened afterwards as well.

'And then we walked through all that snow together, chasing those yellow lights and trying to build something that would get us out of that world! But it was so cold – and I couldn't walk anymore – ' She stumbled in her words, then picked herself up and continued: 'And then you spoke to me and I knew – I _knew _it was you Daddy!'

The door slid open behind them and Ushio – the young Ushio that had been born to that world and hadn't lain in the snow – came out with the cup of water refilled. 'Daddy?'

The girl in Tomoya's arms stiffened. So did Tomoya, who wondered how much his…daughter had heard. But if the girl from the other world was the same Ushio that had died in the snow at five, before time had been rewound and diverged, then she was his daughter as well, Ushio as well.

But she still wasn't the Ushio staring at the both of them with confused eyes, coming closer with the glass. 'Here,' she offered, a little tentatively to the girl who clutched his shirt still. 'You must have lost a lot of water crying.'

The girl's hold loosened on Tomoya's shirt, until one hand dropped off and accepted the cup. Ushio beamed. The girl from the other world clutched the cup like she'd, before that, clutched the Garbage Doll in her lap. Tomoya wondered what was going through her head. She'd longed for this world almost as deeply as he'd – less so only because she'd never seen it like him, never lived in it to feel true happiness and despair. But now they had both come to this world: of happiness and light – but he had Ushio in this world, an Ushio that wasn't the Ushio that had lived on after falling in the snow.

He'd never thought, never considered, that that the Ushio of the past had actually lived in that dream world – that it was a _real_ world, and not just a world between worlds. He'd put all that behind him, like all of it was just a nightmare and he was living happily with Nagisa and Ushio and that was it…

But the girl from the other world being in front of him proved it all wrong. And Nagisa and Ushio knew nothing of it. On top of that, they'd offered her a futon – which, in all good conscience, they couldn't have not done because she was thin and pale and dizzy and had nowhere to go. But that meant he couldn't just ignore the issue. The Ushio from the other world would ask questions – or ask for answers again. And he'd have to ask for answers too because there was no place to run away.

The Ushio from the other world had finished half her second glass by the time Nagisa came back. 'The guest room's ready,' she said. She offered a hand to the girl, who looked at her glass and then at the woman.

'I'll take the glass,' little Ushio chirped, and plucked it easily from slack hands.

The Ushio from the other world, her hands now freed, grasped the Garbage Doll again with one hand, and Nagisa took the other. 'Come on,' she said gently, helping the other up. 'It's okay; I've got you.' Though the girl seemed fine walking with on her own; it was direction shellacked, direction to a destination she didn't know. She knew nothing about their house; Tomoya hadn't moved from the apartment he'd taken with Ryou's help in the first world. He'd never had the chance to build a house with his family, because his time with them had fled too quickly.

She was as lost now as he'd been in his dream world, meekly following Nagisa after she'd cried herself out into Tomoya's chest. It was still moist with those tears, and clung to him along with the weight of something he'd been running away from for so many years, that he'd buried in his heart thinking it would never rise again.

'Daddy?' Ushio – the young, unknowing Ushio – tugged at his sleeve. At some point she'd set the glass down on the table so both hands were free. 'Are you okay?'

Tomoya shook his head. Wondering was getting him nowhere. Questioning himself was getting him nowhere. He smiled at his daughter: the Ushio born in this world they lived together happily in.

Then the possibility hit him. Did the appearance of the Ushio of the other world mean his second chance with his family was over?

'Daddy?' Ushio's insistent voice crept in to his thoughts. 'Daddy?'

'I'm fine Ushio.' Tomoya shook his head again, as though to shake out those insisting thoughts. Their home, their family – it was all still there. He scooped Ushio up and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. 'Let's go follow your mother.'

'Yay,' Ushio trilled. 'Piggy back!'

They left the porch together.


	5. Chapter 5

They'd left her alone so she could rest, but that was impossible. Now that nothing was happening around her, all her thoughts tumbled forth and begged coherence. The most important was how two of Okazaki Ushio – two of _her_ – would live in the same world. How would Nagisa react to seeing another version of her daughter – the daughter created from the original timeline, before it diverged? And could she call her timeline the original one at all? Just because her father recognised her, remembered her – did that make this world the false, dream one?

But her father had called the world they'd come from, that snow-covered world with an eternal winter and the yellow lights of happiness and hope, his dream.

Did he think she was a dream too? He hadn't said much to her at all, said nothing to her calling him her father, except for the nod and flash of doubt before the words had exploded out of her –

And he had another Ushio now, an Ushio who had grown up and known both parents instead of just the one, and even then for a hair's breadth of a time before she'd fallen in the snow from the same illness that had claimed her mother's life. And this Ushio was spirited and full of energy, untouched by that cold white world but running, instead, in a world full of laughter and colours. An Ushio that called him "Daddy" too…

What now? Was she supposed to pretend he wasn't her father, give him up to the other Ushio and be content to watch from a far? Give up the only company she had ever known in the snow-filled world, after all her other memories had faded away into the ice-cold drops falling to the ground?

She stared hard at the Garbage Doll, who hadn't moved at all since…it felt like forever, but it could only have been a few hours since she'd found herself in this world, with the other Ushio waking her. It had stopped moving at some point, when she'd lain in the snow unable to move and the drift had begun to cover her. The yellow lights had faded away too: risen too high for her to see, or vanished entirely – she couldn't be sure of that.

'Daddy?' she whispered to the robot. 'Are you still there?''

The Garbage Doll didn't move at all, and she hadn't expected it to. Her father's soul was gone from it after all, and it was just a robot she'd found in the snow and repaired. Her father was somewhere else in the house, with the other Ushio – and no-one had called _her_ Ushio for so long, it felt like she was stealing a name away.

A name…and a family, because this was that other Ushio's world, not hers.

'We wanted to come to the other world…but this is the wrong world.'

She choked back a cry of despair into her pillow. She'd wanted the world she'd left behind, not one that had replaced her completely. And as the tears returned a new, that thought sunk in. She'd been replaced. There was another Ushio, an Ushio that wasn't her. And the way her father had looked… She didn't belong in this world.

**The Two Bays  
Chapter 5**

'Something's bothering you,' Nagisa said, giving up on the pretence. She'd realised it out on the porch, but had let Ushio drag Tomoya to play with her a little first. He'd come into the kitchen while she had a bath and Nagisa made dinner, and she gave him a little extra leeway in setting everything up before she spoke. Now, the curry bubbled along in the pot behind her only to be stirred every now and then, and the rice slowly steamed, to be drained when done.

'Nothing's bothering me.' Tomoya smiled, but Nagisa wasn't convinced.

'You try that look too many times.'

He looked appropriately abashed.

Nagisa took off her apron and sat beside him. 'Did something happen at work?'

'Work was great,' Tomoya said truthfully, and it usually was. He'd hadn't been offered another transfer since the one before their engagement had fallen through, but that was all the better for all of them. Tomoya had, instead, worked his way up in the company that had taken him under his wing, and couldn't imagine working in another place. While once the pay had struggled to support two people, now it comfortably managed three. And he'd long since found a place for himself there: understanding co-workers – some like Yoshino who'd been there since he'd started and some other new ones, and work he could look forward to every morning.

'Then what's wrong? The girl Ushio brought home?'

Tomoya's hand twitched. 'I…' he began. Nagisa would get an answer out of him somehow. She always did, even if she was never forceful, always kind. But he didn't think he could ever tell her about that other timeline, where she'd died, or the world of snow that had been so sparse and desolate…

'You have that look on your face.' She touched his cheek lightly, and he relaxed. It was easy to relax when the reminder of her warmth was so tangible. It had been a long time in between, before he'd gone back to the point his life had crumbled into emptiness, that he hadn't felt that warmth. The time in which she'd died in one timeline and survived in another had been far too long for him. 'It's like you've lived a hundred years more than me, sometimes.'

It was said lightly and partially in jest, but it was close enough to the truth, and sometimes Tomoya wished it was enough to just let the whole story flow. That way he could get it off his chest – but that was such a large burden to place on anyone. And Nagisa was so innocent and sweet, not at all cynical like him.

But the new timeline had destroyed that in him – no, that wasn't right. Ushio had destroyed that, when he'd realised how he'd abandoned her and started living with her again, getting to know her like he should have since her birth. But Nagisa's death had destroyed something profound in him, something the then five year old Ushio had managed to heal, once he'd let her back in. And then Ushio had died as well, fallen in the snow trying to walk to the place they'd finally come together again…

And then they'd both been in the other world, the world of eternal snow, and neither of them had recalled much of the past at all. His soul had somehow been transferred to the Garbage Doll and she'd grown older: taller, paler and less full of light. And he could only move and follow her: not talk, and his communication had been cut to guiding her places he'd found while she slept. Food, water, materials – anything he could do to minimise her forays in the storms where she was more likely to freeze to death than the makeshaft shelters she found.

But even those shelters hadn't been enough in the end to stop her falling in the snow a second time.

'Tomoya?' Nagisa's warm fingers interlocked with his. 'When you look like that, it's like you're thinking about a nightmare you won't share.'

That summed it up pretty well, he thought. 'She…' But what could he say to her that wouldn't worry her. 'She reminded me of that nightmare I used to have.'

She understood which nightmare, even if she knew very little of it. He'd told her about the snow, about the endless, desolate world and the yellow lights that floated up to the sky and they chased like people chased snowflakes in this world. But he hadn't told her about his voiceless, restricted form. Or about the girl who'd held his hand and walked with him – or he'd walked with her. Whichever it was.

'Why does she remind you of that?' she asked. Of course she would ask; she could see no link between them.

He hesitated. She guessed. 'She looks like someone in that world?'

He couldn't deny that, even though it was a gross understatement.

'It's the dress,' Nagisa mused, standing up to stir the curry pot. 'Thin and white, and her pale skin – it almost does look like she came from a world of snow: a world without the sun.' She hummed a little to herself, as she stirred. 'I guess that's why you looked as though you'd recognised her,' she said. 'I was hoping you had; the poor dear doesn't remember her name or where she came from at all.'

Tomoya looked at the table. He knew she'd lied when she said that – in a sense, because at the same time there was another Ushio in this world, that was his daughter –

Nagisa chattered about how they'd call the police and keep her until they could find her parents – but he knew that wouldn't happen. _He_ was the father, but in another timeline, another world. The mother was Nagisa – but that Nagisa had died on a snowing day more than five years ago. What was the Ushio from the snowy world thinking, he wondered. Was she as confused as him? She'd called him "Daddy", but did she see him as the little Ushio's father as well? How did she see Nagisa? And little Ushio, the Ushio born from the Nagisa who'd survived that childbirth…

And what did Ushio think of this world? They'd tried to leave the snowing world, to cross over into the world the orbs of light rose into – but that had been the timeline they'd come from, not this one…even though he'd always had that deep desire to see a world where Nagisa had lived on and his happily ever after could come true.

But Ushio, who'd never known her mother, had looked towards another world. That past world where she journeyed with her father up north where the yellow fields were, and lived with him in a tiny apartment cramped with all the stuffed dango he'd brought her deceased mother years ago. Because she hadn't known a life with a mother; she'd only known growing up with her grandparents, then living with her father those few months before illness had claimed her too. That was the world she'd dreamt about as it snowed outside her shelter. That was the world she'd looked at chasing those yellow orbs of light.

How had she come to their world? And what did it mean?


	6. Chapter 6

She stared aimlessly at the ceiling: plain like guest rooms were without a permanent residence to leave any residue of individuality behind. She drifted off at times, fell into the realm of sleep and dreams and woke again to resume a silent vigil.

But what was she watching, waiting for? An unfamiliar ceiling that could have been her home if only she'd been born into this life – or if it really existed at all. Too many theories had rolled around in her head. Too many possibilities, all unlikely if she hadn't seen other worlds and strange happenings herself. And as she slept and woke, new ideas came and they all lost or gained favour, fluctuated until she couldn't decide which scenario seemed most likely after all.

And her situation was bizarre – but it also hurt, being so close to her father but him being so _different_ – because he had a human body and could talk but was something she couldn't seem to adjust to. The fact that he had gone back in time and watched his future diverge along a new path was just as strange – because where did that leave her and the world they'd spent so many winters in together, waiting for the everlasting snow to melt?

**The Two Bays  
Chapter 6**

Night came slowly, like the final bell on a day he couldn't wait to leave. Except his school years were far behind him and his happy life was something he never wanted to lose, or leave behind. But the Ushio from the other world plagued his mind even as she slept behind that door, and not even the bubbly energy from the Ushio of this world or Nagisa's sweet smile and gentle touch were enough to drive away the fear that crept back.

How long had he spent, those first few years, afraid the dream he lived would vanish into smoke before his eyes? And now, lying on his bed beside his sleeping wife, those fears returned stronger than ever. Nagisa was curled up beside him: his grounding force, even now. For ever and ever – and not for the first time he thought about how different his life was now, with the only difference being her by his side.

No, that wasn't right. Last Christmas Ushio had outlived her first self, showing no signs of the sickness that had claimed her in that other world. Their happy family had lasted beyond its predestined time, and he'd relaxed a little once winter ended and spring's bud came into bloom. He'd relaxed…only for the girl from the other world to suddenly appear before him and shake him to his core.

He'd done a good job pretending for those past five years. He'd been able to fool everyone around him – even himself, and even Nagisa. Both of them knew there was something there, behind his eyes as he looked at them and his life. Sometimes he commented, or Nagisa asked – and then he called it a nightmare, or a dream…and, at some point, he'd convinced himself that past life of his really _had_ been a dream.

Most of him wished he could have continued living in those delusions forever, but what that time had also taught him was that it was impossible. He'd spent almost five years drowning himself: five years with Ushio staying with Sanae and Akio and himself with alcohol and cigarettes and gambling and work – anything that could pass the time in a mindless haze. But no matter how hard he'd tried, that stabbing cold pain couldn't be drowned out of his heart nor his memories. They faded somewhat, with time: dulled like how he'd tried to drown them before, but only with their presence and love.

Now he lay in bed waiting for those nightmares to begin again. He kept his eyes open; part of him remembered the taste of alcohol on his tongue and wished he could buy a bottle to drown himself in – but it wasn't worth leaving Nagisa's company to do, and that had been in another time. Instead he just stared at the ceiling, feeling his eyes burn and his thoughts swirl in a confused jumble. The ceiling darkened above him. Nagisa's soft breathing faded away, and the sound of wind howling, snow falling and people screaming and crying replaced them.

At some point in the night, he jerked himself up and out of that dream, breathing hard. Nagisa was the first thing he looked for, and found: curled under the blankets, his right hand between both of hers. He held her as close as he dared without waking her, feeling the goosebumps on his cold skin and the warm smooth texture of hers.

And when his hammering heart was a little quieter and his skin had pushed away the feeling of a snow-clad prison, he slipped out of bed. His daughter's room right next to theirs: it was something they'd both agreed on, both being paranoid about. Too many people had told them, back then when Nagisa was pregnant, that she wouldn't carry the baby to term: that Ushio wouldn't survive. But she'd done it, in both worlds.

He stood outside her room, pretending he could hear the sound of her breathing through the door. That she would not be there was completely irrational: he knew that, especially since Nagisa's presence proved which world was the nightmare he'd woken from. But it was the same every time he dreamt about the other world: about that cold and lonely snow-drift that had buried his wife and only child.

And even in this world, where Nagisa had lived through the birth and their daughter had been a healthy bundle of joy, they had no other children.

If Ushio had been younger still: the baby he'd carried against his chest for so long, he'd have opened the door and peeked in. But Ushio was growing up, and even with uncertainly behind his eyes he could see she needed room to continue growing. No matter how he clung to his own fears, he couldn't let that hold her back – hold her back from what she hadn't been able to achieve in that first world.

He couldn't hear a thing through the door. Maybe if Ushio had been a snorer like Sunohara, he'd have managed it, or young enough to need the door open and a lamp on in the hall if she needed to go to the bathroom and was scared of the dark – but even when she'd had the night-light she hadn't needed it for very long. She was the sort who was going to be strong and independent and move away from home before he'd had enough time with her.

He hadn't even started to prepare himself for the day he'd lose her all over again.

He shook his head: if he started crying there, he'd wake Ushio and perhaps Nagisa and the Ushio from the other world as well. And it would be just that much harder to wake with a smile on his face and go on with things like last time. He rested a hand on the door and leaned in to it; it had barely been a few hours since he'd seen the Ushio from the other world, but already he was falling apart. He should have been happy she'd survived, and escaped that horrible world. He should have been ecstatic, because she was his daughter.

But family, blood – all of that faded into confusion in the face of reality and the worlds from dreams, and this happy life he lived now – even after the five years he'd had he didn't want it to evaporate. He _never_ wanted it to evaporate.

A few tears slipped down his cheeks. He couldn't stop them; instead he just let them fall, then rubbed them away. A door creaked behind him, and he held his breath. Was it Nagisa, opening her eyes to find he wasn't in bed? Or was it the girl from the other world?

He turned, slowly, when no footsteps approached. The doors of both the bedroom he shared with Nagisa and the guest bedroom were closed, and even as he waited with baited breath none of them opened up. He sighed; he'd been paranoid since long ago, when his father would come home drunk, but it was worse when he couldn't convince himself that other world had been a dream, that he hadn't lost his wife and daughter to the same, unnamed, sickness.

He sighed again, then went to the kitchen for some coffee. With a reminder sleeping far too close, he needed something to keep him awake. And it didn't take long for him to make. While Nagisa did almost all the cooking, he was a good cook himself. He had to be, to have something home made to eat through high school, and to feed Ushio in that first world. It was less practical now: very rarely did Nagisa leave the pair of them alone and when she did, it was usually to visit the Furukawa bakery and they'd always send bread to compensate. Still, Tomoya liked to cool occasionally: to give his wife a break, to do something romantic once in a while, because they were having a lot of guests over and even Nagisa, who could own her own restaurant if she wanted, couldn't handle all that in a reasonable amount of time.

Kyou was probably the only one who joked about his inability to cook – regardless of whether he could or not. But the coffee was fine, and he pulled a few biscuits from one of the cupboards to dip in the cup as well. He left the lights off; the moonlight seeping through the windows was fine. It had been fine for most days he had his little midnight snack like a child. They were a rare occurrence after the childbirth Nagisa survived.

And, most times, without meaning to he'd wake Nagisa in the process and she'd be beside him before he finished. He never made coffee for her; she didn't drink it. He'd started taking spare biscuits though. Even if Nagisa didn't drink coffee in itself, she linked dunking biscuits in to his cup.

And, sure enough, she came in her white nightgown falling just past her knees and accepted the biscuit he offered her. She didn't ask; she waited for him instead, offering a hand and an ear…and really, that was all he needed.

But he'd also known that, one day, she'd need her explanation.

'You're acting different today,' she said quietly. 'Why has Ushio's new friend unsettled you so much? It's not the first time she's brought a stranger home.'

Which was true; Ushio had failed to inherit Tomoya's cynical nature. But the reason was something he'd dwelled on far too much and yet still couldn't quite believe. His last biscuit broke and half fell into the coffee. 'I'm a failure – ' he began, and just like that all his shortcomings, past and present, tumbled past his lips.

Nagisa listened, somewhat puzzled but worried and caring all the same. Then she smiled, tenderly, and leaned over to wipe the tears that had started to flow. 'You're not a failure,' she said gently. 'Remember when we got married? The both of us are weak-hearted fools, but neither of us are failures? We have this wonderful life together, don't we? And Ushio: dear darling Ushio…'

But Nagisa didn't know that the girl in the guest bedroom was another Ushio, an Ushio that he had failed – and even now, was running away from, because he didn't know how to face her.


	7. Chapter 7

The Ushio from the other world awoke slowly, her mind still caught in the complex twines of her dream. But she thought she had learnt something from them: something that, in the darkness, became clear. A dream: she'd been dreaming, about her last moments in the snow. And that coldness still clung to her: clung to her even more strongly now, despite the blankets that had covered her when she'd fallen asleep.

A dream. She'd been dreaming. About those last moments, about that desperate wish to see her father again, see that happy life he'd so desperately wished for all of them. That happy life that had been so cruelly denied to him.

Now she remembered. She was seeing the alternate world created by his wish: a wish that had transcended time and space and become a reality: just another dream. That was how she'd gone to that endless winter world as well: wanting to live on…and how her father had followed, wanting to look at her, after her, still…

But this time, he had been the first to go and she the one to follow. And she saw her father's happy life: _her_ happy life, if she hadn't borne that same sickness as her dead mother, in this world not dead. If they'd all lived together happily…

A happily ever after dream she couldn't be a part of without destroying.

She gripped the garbage doll tightly, its plastic fingers digging into her palm. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, and she realised why the blankets no longer covered her.

That beautiful dream house was gone. She was in the apartment she'd lived in until the day she passed from that world.

**The Two Bays  
Chapter 7**

Tomoya was suddenly awake, and cold. The comforting weight of Nagisa in his hold had vanished like an echo from the distant past, and her side the covers were smooth and unworn, as though no-one had ever slept under them. He bolted up: his own half of the covers fell into a roll on his lap, leaving his entire pyjama top exposed. The room was half-bare as well, as though it had been many years since Nagisa, and her memories, had lived there.

And the room was wrong, too wrong. It wasn't the one in the house they'd built together: those widely spaced and slightly sloping walls with those pale curtains over the windows that happily let the sun past. That room that was a bedroom and nothing else: not that one that had become the living room and storage room as well, with that low table on one side and his futon spread on the other. And his uniform hanging over that table, washed but not ironed and waiting – though he didn't remember ever leaving it like that with Yoshino's tool beside it.

He'd only had Yoshino's tool after he'd left that job, after Ushio had –

He jumped up and almost fell over the little step outside his room in haste, before turning back around. That place – it _was_ the apartment he'd lived out his life in in that other world. Where Nagisa had died. Where Ushio had fallen sick – and where they'd left because Ushio had wanted to go back to that flower field so badly…

Where he'd lost both Nagisa and Ushio to the winter snow.

He wandered around the apartment after that, like a ghost. Nothing had changed: not a thing since the day Ushio had died in the snow. Their warmest clothes were all packed and gone, the rest neatly in the draws save his work overalls, still hanging over the table. A force of habit he hadn't quite been able to get rid of, whether it was to keep up pretences so Ushio wouldn't blame herself for him living work, or so he didn't have to think about how sick she'd really been.

He'd thought he'd go back, in a few months once the winter was over and done with and Ushio was feeling better…but that hadn't happened. Instead of the gentle clutter that was always around the house: little toys left lying around, Ushio's hat hanging on a chair with his satchel, a cup or spoon or something always left over from the dishes… Instead of all that was a cleanliness that seemed unnatural.

It shouldn't have lasted more than ten minutes. Ushio should have begged for a glass of water as soon as they were inside, or his own parched throat should have requested one. Their two bags should have been dumped in the dining room to be unpacked. He should have brought a little souvenir for Ushio, hopefully one that wouldn't get lost in the sunflower fields this time, and she should have dropped it on the table along with brochures, bookmarks and other bits of paper from the lodge.

Or, rather, Nagisa should have been with them, alive, and the evidence of her glowing life should have been scattered everywhere. Like it was in that house: that dream house they'd built together in that quiet but homely corner of the woods. That place that still looked the same after ten years, except the house that had been slowly built on once vacant land. The house that was his dream house, _their_ dream house…

And never, not even on the coldest days of winter, as chilled and empty as this one.

He entered the dining room: ran a finger along the table and came back without a hint of dust. If only he'd had the habit of keeping a calendar in those days…but it had never been necessary. Either he'd had a work schedule like the clock, in those years he had left Ushio with her grandparents, Nagisa's parents, or he'd stayed home with Ushio and then it hadn't mattered what day of the week it was so long as he paid bills as soon as he got them and expected the doctor whenever the man called ahead to remind about the appointment.

But a calendar would have been useful know, to know what day he was dreaming about, what day he was relieving…

Or maybe he was continuing on, living out his life in that nightmare of a world, from the point where his memories had frozen in the snow.

'Daddy?'

He spun around. _Ushio!_ That was Ushio's voice – but he saw her quickly and clearly enough: not the little Ushio that was a part of that happy world, but the one who had died in the snow and had gone on to live, and grow up, in that endless winter world.

He rushed to her anyway. She must have the answers, he thought. _He_ certainly didn't have them, and she was the only other person in the world, perhaps, who knew her identity, knew of that first world. 'Where is Nagisa?' he asked, grabbing her shoulders, his hands shaking. He caught himself enough not to grab her too tight, but she still looked a little started. 'Where's my –'

He stopped. He'd been about to say "daughter", but this Ushio was his daughter as well.

'I'm sorry,' the other-world Ushio, the older one, said, her voice quavering. 'I didn't want to say goodbye to you so soon…' She pulled the Garbage Doll close, hugging it to her chest like she'd hugged the Dango family back in life. '…I'd just realised it was you: making the Garbage Doll move, always looking out for me, even though I couldn't hear your voice until the end…' Her voice shook more viciously this time, and she clutched the Garbage Doll tighter.

Tomoya let his arms fall from her shoulders. 'Where are they?' he asked, whispered a little pathetically to the door frame she stood in, to the apartment at large that should have disappeared from that nightmare of a world once time had rewound and his happiness had been restored. 'Was it all just a happy dream I have to wake up from?'

That fear he'd kept for five long years, pretending it wasn't there, pretending that there was just no way…but the truth was, there was no way for time to rewind either, for a future that had already occurred to simply change its course. He'd hoped, naively, that wishes would be enough. He'd _believed_ that wishes would be enough.

'I wanted to be in the world that was Daddy's happiness,' Ushio said, and Tomoya forced himself to look back at her. His wish had left her all alone, in that snow he'd followed her to, through countless winters watching her grow: older and thinner and frailer, and eventually to death once more. 'It's okay.' She smiled at him, her eyes watering and her tone more steady now that she'd said what was most important to her. 'That wish brought me here, but I'd forgotten – ' The tears spilled over. 'I've made you unhappy now, haven't I?'

'No!' Tomoya burst out, grabbing her again, this time more tenderly, like the father he thought he'd failed at being, for her. Not for the other Ushio, that sweet innocent and healthy Ushio, but this one who he'd abandoned to her grandparents for five long years after Nagisa's death, and treated her so distantly for a time after. How much time had he wasted with her, in the end? Too much…and when he'd hoped to look after her a little longer it had to have been in the form of a little scrap robot who couldn't speak at all and could barely move. 'I am happy…to see you're alright.'

His voice died there. He was happy to see she was alright, that was the truth, but at the same time she represented everything about the past he'd tried so desperately to leave behind.

'It's just that…'

'I understand now.' Ushio smiled again. 'I was jealous before, of that other Ushio. She got to live in that happy world…but I'm still her, still Ushio. And I mightn't have met Mummy properly, but I had Sanae-san and Akii and Daddy too. I had a happy life. Just not enough time with you.'

Why couldn't she have been that other Ushio, just like Tomoya was Tomoya: there was no past or present or future or other self to him? Why did things have to be confusing like this? Why couldn't he have lived on in his happy little world –

But that wouldn't have been fair on the Ushio he'd left behind in the snow. He realised that now: that fact he'd completely ignored over those years of shoving the memories of the past aside. Even after he'd understood those nightmares he'd had were part of that past as well, he'd ignored them. Tried to forget about them. Because they came at the cost of the happy life he'd been, except for those few shadows, enjoying so very much…

He was still a selfish bastard. He chuckled bitterly to himself, then knelt down. 'I'm a failure of a father, aren't I?'

The Ushio before him shook his head. 'Nuh-uh.' She sounded exactly as she had when they'd played together: just father and daughter, in that world where Nagisa was dead and they were destined to live out their little bit of time together in that tiny apartment he'd had since high school.

Ushio fiddled around with her feet a little, then dropped the Garbage Doll and stepped closer, then closer still, until she could comfortably loop her arms around his waist.

'I wanted Daddy to be happy,' she whispered into his pyjama shirt. 'More than anything in the world. And now I've gotten to see Daddy's happy world, and even Mummy. But I wanted to see it so badly, I ruined it.'

Tomoya hesitated a moment, then wrapped his arms around his daughter…because she was his daughter, just like that Ushio from that other world.

'Let's go to the sunflower fields,' he said suddenly, spontaneously. The lack of dust, everything neatly packed and, probably, now that he thought about it, waiting by the door.

Ushio blinked, and suddenly she was smaller, and wearing mittens and a beanie and a scarf, and his pyjamas were gone and replaced with warmer, outdoor clothes as well. The clothes they'd worn for their last day in this world.

Ushio stared at herself, then looked around. 'My doll!' she cried, in a sudden panic.

'He's waiting for us at the field,' Tomoya said, and he was sure the Garbage Doll was there, amongst the flowers were Ushio had dropped them on their first encounter.

Ushio had really wanted to go back to that field, see the sunflowers bright and yellow and dancing with the wind. Ushio hadn't mentioned that, since she'd died. Maybe she'd forgotten about it. But Tomoya remembered. How long had he tried to find the spring in that other world?

But spring existed in this one, and in that happy world that was the cultivation of his wish.

This time though, he was going to fulfil her wish.


	8. Chapter 8

Ushio was all smiles as she ran through the fields, young and excited: as carefree as the day they'd first come here. Tomoya smiled. That was how things should have gone in the first world. Before fate had decided to be cruel to him again.

He didn't know how long they were there. He just watched Ushio, young and pure again, run around in the sunflowers, occasionally disappearing under them searching, he was sure, for the Garbage Doll, before getting up to run again.

And, eventually, she gave a cry of triumph and held up the little plastic robot he'd brought for her on a whim so long ago. 'I found it!' she cried, rushing up to him, pollen and grass clinging to her clothes.

He didn't know where the winter had gone, but he didn't care. Spring was a far kinder season to them. Spring made the sunflowers yellow and shimmering with dew. Spring had taken away the snow and the approaching death, and allowed the sun to beam upon them.

But he hadn't forgotten about that other world, and neither had she.

She came to him, and offered the Garbage Doll. He took it, and it became a yellow orb of light in his hands. 'This..?' He stared at it in awe.

It was one of those lights from that world of endless winter, that they'd chased endlessly, knowing it was all the happiness in the world.

The one he held…that was Ushio's happiness.

'Take that,' she said to him. 'And go back to the world of your wish.' She beamed: happy, her eyes shining. 'And I'm off now. Goodbye.'

His lips moved before his brain. 'Goodbye…Ushio.'

'Goodbye, Daddy.'

**The Two Bays  
Chapter 8**

'Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!'

Tomoya blinked blurrily at the ceiling, yellow still clinging to his eyes. Ushio was next to him, pulling excitingly.

'Come on, Daddy!' she whined, easing up on the tug as she saw him open his eyes. 'You can't sleep in on your anniversary!'

'Oh, that's right,' he mumbled. But he made no move to get up. His body was exhausted, but more than that his mind… 'Ushio?'

'Yes?' She blinked innocently at him.

'Did you check on your new friend?'

She blinked, confused. 'What new friend?' she asked. 'Fuuko?'

_So she doesn't remember_. Tomoya felt for the edge of the blankets, slowly peeling them off before sitting up. 'Never mind,' he said. Fuuko was an old friend anyway. Too old, really. She still managed to get on his nerves, no matter how endearing or important to Ushio she was. 'Where's Mummy?'

'In the kitchen,' Ushio replied happily. 'She's making pancakes.'

'Right.' He put a smile on his face. 'Why don't you go help and let your Daddy freshen up?'

'Okay.' She skipped away, looking so much like the Ushio he'd said goodbye to at the sunflower field.

Was that all a dream then, he wondered? Or something else? A small pocket in time that allowed her wish to come true?

Tomoya made a mental note to ask Kotomi the next chance he got. And, while he was at it, he would tell her of the other world as well. And Nagisa before that. He had to stop hiding those things, pretending they didn't exist.

It was too easy to forget other, more important things.

He went to the guest bedroom first, once Ushio was gone. It was the same as it always was when there was no guest there. As if the other Ushio hadn't slept there at all.

But, for a frightening moment, it had been this happy world of his that had vanished. But the other Ushio had given it back to him, with her orb of happiness. Nagisa, taking the last of the pancakes off the stove as he finally arrived in the kitchen, kissing her on the cheek. Little healthy Ushio without the burden of her mother's death or a father that had abandoned her, running to him, begging to be picked up.

He picked her up, setting her down in her chair before taking another himself.

'Honey?' Nagisa smiles at him. 'And strawberry jam for Ushio?'

'Yeah!' Ushio cheers. 'Strawberry jam. For Daddy too!'

Nagisa raises an eyebrow. Tomoya shrugs, then nods. _Why not_? It made Ushio happy after all, and it didn't matter all that much what he had on his own pancakes. Such little favourite things were more important to a child.

But he was a child at heart too. Somewhere deep down, he hadn't quite grown up. Because his own mother had died so young? Because he'd been so distant with his father? Because he'd married so young? Lost his wife so young? Been reborn before he could quite learn all of life's lessons?

_Who knew?_ Tomoya put a forkful of pancake in his mouth. 'Delicious.'

The rest of the breakfast passed like that: smiles and happiness and all the things that could put his heart at ease.

But it couldn't be like that forever. He knew that; he couldn't be so naïve as to hold on to that forever.

'What were you thinking about?' Nagisa asked, quietly, as they washed the dishes afterwards, Ushio off to play in the woods again. This time, at least, Tomoya knew he wouldn't be meeting a girl in a white dress with skin like the snow. 'You had such a serious look on your face.'

'The same as usual?' Tomoya asked her.

'Well…no,' Nagisa decided, after thinking a moment. 'I think you looked a little relieved, actually. Like a great weight had fallen from your shoulders.'

'That it has,' Tomoya confessed. 'And it's a long, unbelievable story, if you want to hear?'

Nagisa rinsed the last dish and dried it. 'I do,' she said. 'About that shadow that's finally gone from you.'


End file.
